Chapter 4: Blood & Bones: Rev: Chapter 3

Reilly chewed on her thumbnail as she perched on Rev’s bike where it sat in the long storage shed in which they parked their sleds. She’d hidden her car behind The Grove Inn and had Ozzy drop her off early this morning.

She loved The Great Oz. He was the best. And he proved that once again when he peeled himself out of bed and away from a sleeping Lizzy just to do Reilly that favor. No questions asked.

She didn’t have to give him any excuses on why she needed a ride to the farm that early. Unlike most of the guys, he really didn’t give a fuck what she was doing or why. His reasoning was: if you don’t ask someone’s business, they won’t ask you about yours.

Simple.

He’d always gone out of his way for her during the many months she lived at the motel. In exchange, she’d help him out in the office when needed. While it was great having her own apartment now, she missed being around him since he’d become like an older brother to her.

Now here she was… waiting. In the dark shed.

Nervous.

Because she knew she’d get a rash of shit from Rev for being there. But she had donned her invisible armor and was ready for whatever he would dish out. She’d also gone over and over in her head what she’d say to him and how she’d get him to see reason.

He never answered her yesterday about when he was making his trek to Coatesville, but she’d overheard—okay, purposely listened in—him talking to Dutch about it.

Dutch grumped a whole lot but reluctantly let him take the days off. Rev, not knowing when his father was going to “peacefully depart”—Reilly almost choked when she heard that description—left the date open for his return to work. She’d also kind of eavesdropped on his conversation with Trip just to confirm Rev wasn’t leaving until this morning and not late last night.

Before Ozzy rode away earlier, she made sure Rev’s sled was still inside the shed. She was relieved when it was. She didn’t expect him to leave at the crack of dawn, so that was when she had Ozzy drop her off. Just to make sure she caught Rev before he left.

She promised the older biker lots of coffee and fresh pastries from Coffee and Cream when she returned. He only grunted in response and rode away, the deep rumble of his sled deafening in the quiet pre-dawn, mid-April morning air.

She’d hidden in the back corner of the shed behind some boxes while everyone but Rev had stumbled in, got their bikes and left for work. She wanted to avoid all the questions that would be asked—and didn’t want to answer—if she was spotted.

So, one by one, sleepy bikers rolled in and rolled out. Not surprising, not one of them was a bright and chipper morning person.

One hour, eighteen minutes and thirty-four damn seconds after she arrived was when the door finally opened once more. She hoped like hell it was Rev and no one else this time because she was done hiding.

If it wasn’t him, she was heading over to the bunkhouse and dragging him out by his hair. She couldn’t imagine anyone was left in there except for Rev and maybe a couple of the prospects. But it was the risk of being seen by those prospects that made her stay put instead.

Some of the tension drained from her as she recognized his very familiar silhouette coming through the open doorway. As he hit the automatic door opener on the wall to lift the double garage door in front of his sled, she yelled out, “Don’t open that!”

His whole body jerked, his hand automatically went to where he kept a knife on his hip and his head twisted toward her. “What the fuck?” he grumbled. “What the fuck you doin’ in here?”

He didn’t sound or look happy to see her. No surprise.

“Close the door before anyone sees me.”

“I saw you.”

“Not you, doofus,” she clarified. “Anyone else.”

He slammed his palm on the garage door button and the door grumbled its way closed again. “Why the fuck are you hidin’ in here?”

All the overhead LED lights in the shed turned on when he hit that switch next. She squinted and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the blast of the cornea-burning brightness.

“I’m not hiding,” she said with feigned innocence.

He glanced at her from where he stood and simply cocked an eyebrow.

She shot him a face. “Just hear me out.”

“Reilly,” he growled.

“Just hear me out,” she shouted, “before you go all alpha asshole on me and start beating on your chest and stomping your boots.” Ever since she heard Teddy call the Fury members “leather-clad gorillas” it was hard to get that similarity out of her mind. It actually fit them perfectly.

“You shouldn’t fuckin’ be here.”

“And you shouldn’t go alone,” she countered.

His expression turned hard. “What the fuck, Reilly!”

She sighed and weaved around the few sleds left in the shed to approach him, since, apparently, he was frozen in place.

When she got there, she tipped her face up to his and said, “You’re not taking your sled.”

His eyebrows shot so high up his forehead, she couldn’t tell where they ended and his hairline began. “Wanna clue me in on when I started takin’ orders from you?”

“It’s not an order, it’s a… strongly worded suggestion.”

“All right, then. That’s much better,” he said way too agreeably. He stared at her for a few seconds, then bellowed, “Who the fuck d’you think you are?”

She winced. “Someone—”

“I musta drank way too much whiskey and smoked way too much Kush since I certainly don’t fuckin’ remember claimin’ a woman at the table last night.”

“I—“

“Also don’t remember givin’ a fuck about your strongly worded suggestions. I’m takin’ my goddamn sled and goin’ by myself.”

She planted a hand under his cut and against the waffle-patterned dark gray thermal shirt he wore underneath it. The muscles under her fingers were so tense it was like touching a rock wall. “No, you aren’t.”

He shoved a finger in his right ear and wiggled it. “My hearin’ must be fucked up.”

“You heard me.”

He tilted his head back, stared up at the shed’s ceiling, barked out a single dry laugh, dropped his head back down, shook it, then tipped it the rest of the way down to her. His mouth opened, a hiss escaped, he snapped it shut again and stepped around her, heading to his Indian Dark Horse.

It was a sweet ride and a badass bike that she’d had the pleasure of straddling a couple of times, unlike its owner.

She decided to follow him.

He dropped his backpack on the concrete floor, then toed her own bag with his boot. “What’s this shit?”

“My stuff. It’s what I’ll need for the next few days.”

His nostrils flared as he stared at her backpack that seemed to be a lot fuller than his. Unlike him, she couldn’t wear the same underwear, socks and shirt for days at a time. She also used a lot more than a squirt of gel for her hair.

“For our trip,” she added. That came out a little weaker than she intended.

“Reilly, this ain’t trip.”

She stiffened her spine, and lifted her invisible shield, prepared for battle. “It wasn’t, but it is now.”

“No, it ain’t.”

“Yes, it is. I understand why you don’t want Saylor to go. But someone should go with you.”

“And you think that someone is you.”

She lifted her chin even higher to let him know she wasn’t backing down. “I know it is.”

“No, Reilly.”

“Look, I know I’m maybe not the best choice for this, but I’m your only choice. Do you have someone better?”

“Yeah. No one.”

“I’m not going to let you go by yourself.”

“Reilly, ain’t up to you.”

She ignored that and pushed on. “So, you’re not taking your sled. We need to take your Bronco, instead.”

His brow furrowed and he did not hide the annoyance in his eyes. “Why the fuck would I drive my Bronco? Would cost me a fortune in fuel.”

“Since I need to go that direction, anyway, I figured we could split the cost.” Okay, that last part might be a bit of a fib. Even though the guys knew she liked to pay her own way, none of them would ever take money from her, so she was counting on that since she didn’t have much.

Normally, if she offered them money, they got insulted, cursed at her, turned their back on her and walked away, shaking their head. The same thing happened when she offered to pay a fair price for the used car Dutch sold her and the repairs it needed to be in tip-top running order. The garage owner just about bit her head off and took about half of what the car and the repairs were worth.

While she appreciated it, she also wanted to be independent. She’d been dependent on her sister for far too long. She had wanted to change that once she relocated to Manning Grove. It was time for her to be her own woman, to be responsible for her own decisions and her own mistakes. Especially after almost being killed by Billy Warren. So, that was what she set out to do.

He jerked his chin back and repeated, “You need to go that direction, anyway? Are you fuckin’ crazy, woman?”

She shook her head. “Crazy smart.” She tapped her temple. “Now that I have my own apartment, I need to get the rest of my stuff out of the storage unit. Reese has been paying for it this whole time and I can’t let her do that any longer. But I’m never moving back there, so there’s no point in keeping it. This is my home now.”

“So, go get your shit yourself. You got a cage now.”

“It’s not just the point of saving on gas, I really could use the help. Plus, all my stuff won’t fit in my car, anyhow. Think of it like this, I help you and you help me.”

“How the fuck you gonna help me?”

Besides being there for emotional support? She knew that answer wouldn’t fly. Instead, she said, “I’ll keep you company on the three and a half hour trip. If you want, I can sing. Or tell jokes. Or we can listen to one of my really hot audiobooks.”

“Or you can just be quiet the whole fuckin’ way.”

She smiled. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth.”

The other truth was she was starting to win this conversation. Persistence was paying off. “So… that means we’re carpooling?”

“You’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, plugging his hands on his hips, dropping his head and staring at his boots.

“Thank you.”

He lifted his head. “Ain’t a compliment. You clear this with Reese and the rest?”

He meant Deacon and Judge.

She rolled her lips under.

“You’re gonna get my ass kicked, woman.”

“Nah,“ she scoffed.

“Right. Gonna be gone for as long as it takes,” he warned her.

She had already expected that. “I’m okay with however long it takes.”

She assumed his uncle wouldn’t have reached out unless Rev’s father was at the very end of his illness so it would give Rev the time and opportunity to see his father while still alive. She also assumed it was so Rev didn’t have any regrets afterward of not seeing his father one last time.

“What excuse d’you use? ‘Cause I didn’t see your cage parked out there. That means you hid it somewhere, didn’t you?”

The man was not dumb.

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Where?”

She gave him a look that he read clearly.

“Fuckin’ Ozzy. You told him you’re goin’ with me?”

“Nope. He didn’t ask or care.”

“Fuckin’ Ozzy. He shoulda asked.” He shook his head in disbelief. “So, what’d you tell the others, the ones who care enough to beat me silly with a fuckin’ club?”

She gave him another look.

“Christ,” he muttered. “Spill it. Or I’m leavin’ you standin’ here and takin’ my sled without you. It better be a good fuckin’ story, too.”

It was actually pretty good, if she said so herself. “Well…”

He groaned. “You want me dead, right? That what you want?”

“I told Reese I was driving down to hang out in Philly for a few days with a couple of girlfriends from college. And, great friends that they are, they offered to help me clear out the storage unit while I was there.”

He stared at her for the longest time before mumbling, “You and a coupla other college girlfriends. Would like to see that.”

Of course that was the part he picked up on. “Girlfriends as in friends who have girl parts. Not girlfriends who squatted over my face while I licked their pussies.”

Rev groaned and turned away for a moment. Or two. When he finally turned back, his voice cracked when he asked, “And Dutch?”

“I’m sure Dutch would love to get in on that action. Oh wait. You mean… I told him the same thing as I told Reese.”

“And he wasn’t pissed you’re leavin’?”

“Believe me, he’s surprised I still show up at the shop at all.”

“He ain’t the only one.”

“Well, I’m kind of attached to you assholes, believe it or not.”

She expected him to reply that they were kind of attached to her, too. He didn’t. Instead, he asked, “You got a trackin’ device on your cell phone?”

All signs were now pointing to him relenting and letting her go along. Even if reluctantly. Now she only needed not to screw it up. “I don’t know, do I?”

He held out his hand.

She plucked her phone from the outer pocket on her backpack and, after unlocking it, handed it to him. Once he swiped through the five million other apps on her phone, he found the one he was looking for and screwed with it before handing it back.

“Hate to tell you, you ain’t as smart as you think you are. We all got those apps on our phones for a reason. Wouldn’t be good to have both of us popping up in the same location other than Manning Grove.”

“Well, I guess someone is smarter than I thought.” She never would have thought about a location finder app. Something she forgot Judge required everyone to install on their phones during all the trouble with the Shirleys.

“Ain’t too smart if I’m considerin’ you goin’ along.”

She bounced on her toes, grabbed his shirt and shook it. “You won’t regret it.”

“Oh, I’m gonna fuckin’ regret it. Already know it.”

She grinned. “You’ll enjoy my singing.”

“Prefer road head to keep you quiet.”

“Hard to give you road head on a sled.”

“Easy in my Bronco.”

She grinned.

He grinned.

Wait. Maybe he was serious.

“Havin’ your head bobbin’ in my lap won’t only keep your trap shut but will keep you outta sight when we drive off the farm and outta town. Don’t need you bein’ spotted in my Bronco.” He grabbed his backpack. “Get your shit. Ain’t carryin’ it for you. Gonna go out and make sure the coast is clear before you climb into my cage and wrap your lips around my dick.”

She chewed on her bottom lip.

He leaned in and whispered, “That’s it, get those lips warmed up, babe. Can’t wait. ‘Cause this ain’t gonna be a free ride.”

With that, he slapped her hard on the ass and walked out of the shed, leaving her standing there wondering what she just got herself into.

And whether she wanted to get herself back out of it or not.

They rode in silence for over three damn hours because every time he turned on the satellite radio he’d installed last year in his custom ’68 Ford Bronco 4×4, she sang along. After changing the station three times from classic rock to heavy metal to even rap, she tried to sing to whatever song played no matter if she knew the words or not.

He quickly hit the power button and put an end to that before he killed her and dumped her body alongside the road.

Truth was, she couldn’t sing for shit. It was even worse when she made up the words.

She also sucked at telling jokes.

And while he made her duck down while leaving the farm, and then town, she did not give him road head. Not that he didn’t want her fucking lips wrapped around his dick sucking his nuts dry, he did. But that wasn’t going to happen.

Ever.

Because if she sucked him, he’d end up fucking her after that and then he would die.

Or be severely maimed.

And maybe even have his colors stripped.

No pussy was worth that. Not even the blonde sitting next to him, most of the trip turned in her seat, staring at him like some lunatic.

“Will you knock it the fuck off?”

“Why’d you get your ears and nose pierced?”

“This ain’t gonna be a Q and A session, woman. Just sit there and shut up.”

“What else is pierced?”

“My taint.”

“No, it isn’t. I’ve seen your dick and taint plenty of times and I know it isn’t pierced.”

“Why were you lookin’ at my dick?”

“It’s hard to miss when you fuck anyone who bends over in front of you not wearing panties.”

He cocked one eyebrow and turned his eyes from the road to her for a second. “Not anyone.”

“Anyone who doesn’t have a dick,” she corrected.

That might be true.

“And who doesn’t wear someone’s colors,” she added.

That was definitely true. He would never touch an ol’ lady. Or even someone’s regular.

Even Lizzy, who was a sweet butt. She wasn’t officially Ozzy’s regular but those two were always doing their thing together since Ozzy preferred her over the rest of the sweet butts. Because of that, it would just feel weird fucking her. Unless him and Oz were double-teaming her, then he got over any guilt pretty fucking quickly.

He turned to glance at Reilly again. “All that time you stayed at the motel, did you join Oz and Lizzy in his bed?”

Her expression remained blank when she answered, “That man sure likes his threesomes,” while staring out of the windshield.

She used the same matter-of-fact tone as if she’d announced, “That man sure likes maple syrup on his pancakes.”

Nope. That answer wasn’t going to fly. “Yeah, he does. But you didn’t answer what I asked.”

She twisted her head toward him. “Why would it matter if I did?”

Why would it matter?

Because… It just would.

She arched one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Have joined them in a threesome?”

He pursed his lips and turned his attention back to the road.

“I’ll take that as a yes since I know for a fact that you aren’t opposed to them. I’ve witnessed you doing one too many.”

In truth, there was no such thing as one too many threesomes. Even foursomes.

His rack in the bunkhouse might not be big enough for three women to join him, but there were other ways to make it work…

“Still waitin’ on your answer.”

“I’m not into other women,” was her non-answer.

“Most women don’t gotta be into women to have sex with them. Straight women don’t mind shovin’ their face in another woman’s cunt if they’re horny enough. Or drunk enough. Unlike men who got a problem with goin’ down on another man or lickin’ his asshole if they ain’t into givin’ or takin’ dick.”

“That’s because we have less hang-ups than men. And most women know how to please another woman better than a man does.”

His head spun toward her. “You speakin’ from experience?”

She gave him an exaggerated eye roll. “I went to college, remember?”

“What the fuck does that gotta do with anything?”

“If you went to college, you’d know.”

Maybe he should’ve made more of an effort and found a way to go to college if that was the kind of shit that went on. “College girls gone wild, huh?”

“Are you getting hard?” she accused, eyeing his lap.

“How the fuck can I not? You talkin’ about shovin’ your face between another chick’s thighs and lickin’—”

“I did say those words. That’s just your horny imagination.”

“You never ate pussy?”

He getting hard.

“You just said this wasn’t going to be a Q and A session.”

He sighed. That he did.

he should’ve kept his damn mouth shut and let her just talk. He might have heard some great stories instead.

He frowned. “Fine.”

“Fine,” she huffed.

He needed to get his mind off Reilly and back to their destination. They were only about fifteen minutes away from the house he grew up in. He needed to prepare himself for what they’d be walking into.

It wouldn’t be a teary reunion full of hugs, kisses and claims of missing each other. It would be more of a “I’ll try not to smother your fuckin’ face with a pillow after I spit on you,” just to make sure his old man took his last damn breath.

He figured they’d head straight over there, check out the situation, see how long his asshole sire had to live and then find a motel. Because he certainly wasn’t planning on sitting at his father’s bedside to hold the fucker’s hand.

He also wasn’t planning on forgiving him, even if the man asked for it with his last dying breath. His father didn’t deserve even an ounce of forgiveness. Not one.

Closure. That was what he was going for.

Nothing but closure.

Once the man’s evil soul left his body, the man could be forgotten for good.

“Hey, why did the Harley fall over?”

, here she went again with lame jokes.

“Because it was two tired!” she shouted, then slapped her knee and laughed.

He groaned.

With her tracking device off, he could dump her body anywhere and she’d never be found again.

That might be for the best.